Morality Prevails: A Darker Take on Bella's Change
by xxtwilight
Summary: When confronted with a moral demand posed by Bella, Edward must decide: morality, or Bella's sole demand? Could Edward negate eighty-odd years of abstaining from indulgence? Or could he bear to lose Bella? All's fair when morality prevails.


Summary: When confronted with a moral demand posed by Bella – making the choice, controversial on so many levels, exorbitantly difficult – Edward must decide: morality, or Bella's sole demand? Could Edward negate eighty-odd years of abstaining from the human diet, and become the killer he once was? Or could he bear to lose Bella? All is fair when morality prevails.

**Morality Prevails, by xxtwilight**

"Edward, please." Bella pleaded quietly, earnest eyes wide with desires so complex and conflicting that – for once – Edward was not sure if he _wanted _to hear her thoughts. Similarly, for once, Edward felt an ancient, human urge that had not occurred to him since the death of his parents.

He could have cried.

Positively bawled, even, had she not been looking at him in _that_ way, at that exact moment. _That _way, which made her – _Bella, _Bella... Bella_, _his _life_ – so alien and foreign to him. He did not know this woman... this estranged creature that looked at him, so passionate and yet so... enigmatically. His thoughts were so crazed, so bewildered that he could not even articulate himself properly. No, it was not quite _enigmatically_, the way she was regarding him – it was something darker, something, shockingly, more sinister...

This was not his wife – a fact painfully, excruciatingly clear, revealed in the underbite of her words, her flippant remarks, her indulgences.

This was not the innocent, young girl he had pledged his existence to.

Her eyes narrowed – a testament, he thought, to her disillusionment with this life. Who was this woman, that had become so experienced and... and... _cruel_, in so short a time_?_ Yes, she_ had _become... cruel, though it hurt him on so many levels to attribute the hated, disgusting word to his... wife. His Bella. This estranged Bella, now a stranger to him.

_Why was she doing this to him? How could she bear it?_

"Bella, I..." His voice faded away. He could no longer trust himself to speak, lest his voice fail him. Or break – a definite possibility, despite the artificial, musical tenacity of his enhanced vocal chords.

His thoughts scattered, and, for once, he could not focus. He could not find the _will_ to even try. His eyes took in everything at once – her disheveled hair, bloodstained lips, burgundy eyes, distorted, speculative expression. To his profound disappointment – disappointment so stinging, so sharp, that it stagnated in his soul and slowly numbed all feeling, so fathomless was its depth – he no longer saw the beauty in her face, her expression, her livelihood. Her contorted features no longer held power over him; power of an unreachable tier, an unimaginable echelon, devoted solely to her; a power that had dissipated the moment her eyes opened to what was a sort of personal hell, this hated half-life of immortality.

"Edward, consider it. Please. I'm begging you."

The sweet, high timbre of her voice did not, for once, derail him, though her pleas – at any other moment, in any other instance, in any other predicament – would have rendered him hopelessly helpless, subservient, to her every notion.

He could still not speak.

"We could do it together – you and me! We can run away together. Forget the family. It's just you and me." she continued to plead.

The picture painted itself in his head before he could prevent it. And, though he was loathe to admit it, even to himself, the picture_ did _hold a particular appeal... an appeal attractive only to his lowest, most base, animalistic desires. Desires he wished to rid Bella of. The illusion occurred to him suddenly – an illusion of happiness, freedom, and indulgence... sweet,_ sweet _indulgence... though, even in this imagined foresight, he could sense the sinful nature, the malicious undercurrent devoid of humanity, of expression permeating the artificial happiness. It would crawl and grow between them, stealthily at first, then, figuratively, bear its hideous fangs and suck the life and vitality out of their innocent, pure love. They would become strangers to each other, made bitter and cruel by this hideous, mercenary, disgusting self-gratification.

_What had she meant by that, anyway? _How could they simply _forget the family_? As if it were nothing! Did she care nothing of them? How lightly and flippantly she had made that remark!

Suddenly, with a frustration and fury he had never before felt, aimed pointedly at her, he... shook her. Her shoulders rattled in his tense hands, her head bobbing back and forth, her eyes wide with surprise.

_Oh God, had he just _shaken_ her?_

Edward had never before acted toward Bella in a physically reproaching or less-than-gentle manner. Not in the slightest. But yes, he_ had _shaken her – and, moreover, at that instant, he did not regret it. His anger only grew. And, with it... unconsciously, the beginnings of hatred began to plant themselves in his heart.

"I cannot_ forget my family_, Bella! Please think of what you are asking me to do!" he choked out furiously, beginning to see red in his peripheral vision, so all-consuming were his emotions. _But how could she do this to him?_

"Think of what _you're_ asking _me _to do, Edward! I can no longer deny my nature – we are killers! This... this immortality comes with a price! You can't happily and simply live apart from all that; it's unnatural, an abomination. And do you want to know something, _Edward?_" she spat his name out from between clenched teeth, enunciating it in a strange way that struck him as an indicator of this new, wretched depravedness he saw in her. "I _love_ it. It gives me a high; an adrenaline rush. What you get from speedy cars, Edward, I get from hunting our prey. Our _rightful_ prey. What is there reproachable in _that_? In conforming to nature's laws?"

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could take no more of this pernicious, vile nonsense spewing from her lips – lips he had once kissed, adored, worshipped – that, now, he found honestly repugnant.

"Do it, Edward, please. Do it for me." Her eyes closed at this last, whispered plea, and her head hung in a sign of repentance.

Memories enveloped him – by this unexpected display of humanity, she was suddenly made Bella again to him. He recalled, with painful tenderness, his abysmal happiness at their wedding, their honeymoon, and even the relief he had felt following her change. A change that had, at first, seemed so promising and exciting to the newlyweds.

For a moment, his resolve wavered. _Perhaps he could give her this, too? Morality did not seem so important when compared to the promise of eternal happiness and gratification..._

He recalled his feelings for her; the profound love that had once rendered him so inarticulate – him, a vampire – and unfocused, sure only of his infatuation and deep love for her.

_Could he do it? Could he kill for her? With her?_

_If it meant keeping her?_

He recalled all this with a sort of resigned detachment. Resigned, because that era of his life was over.

He looked up at her suddenly, with the swiftness of determination and belief. Bella saw this change in him, and her eyes widened in expectation and hope.

"I will not compromise morality. I'm sorry, Bella, but... not even for you."

He stood, took one regretful, last, long look – not at _her_, the girl that was once his wife, who now sobbed pitifully into the ground, her fallen body a symbol of transformed morality – but at the child, a six-year-old boy with wavy brown hair, whose limbs splayed out in unnatural directions... whose blood – the sticky, fresh blood unique to children – stained the asphalt.

Glancing once at the dead boy, whose young, innocent life – a life free of fault, sin, and temptation – was cut egregiously short, he muttered an apology under his breath.

He left the scene of the murder, and, within minutes, Bella's horrific moans echoed in the distance.

**Although this was not _fun_ to write, by any means, it was very interesting, and provides, I think, a plausible, darker turn Edward and Bella's relationship could have taken, had Bella indulged in human-hunting. Would Edward have joined her? Or severed ties with her?**

**Although I do think there is a great likelihood that he would have joined her... I wonder, what would happen if he didn't?**

**I hope to explore the possibility here. Feedback, please! Constructive criticism would be great. :)**

**A million thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers... there are not enough superlatives in the English language to describe you.**

**Grosses bises. - xxtwilight**


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